Come What May
by 14karatgold
Summary: Songfic to Come What May with 3 chapters. The first is from Jon's POV during a skirmish near Scanra where Alanna, pregnant with Thom, gets injured. Resurfaced feelings take it from there. I suck at summaries, I really do.
1. Chapter 1: Come What May

Summary: Songfic to Come What May only in AJ terms we all understand, wink wink. It's kinda sad, especially at the end. You have been forewarned. I suck at summaries, I really do.

A/N—This song makes me cry. As tortallanrider pointed out to me, it speaks sooo truly about Jon and Alanna in every way, so I just decided to write about it. It helps that I love Moulin Rouge too. That movie is amazing. If you've never seen it, do. You'll love it… well, maybe guys not so much, but girls will. Heehee.

Rated T and is definitely a romantic drama/angst. Lol I love those.

Disclaimer: I don't own this song or TP's ideas no matter how much I love them.

**Chapter One: Come What May**

_"Never knew I could feel like this _

_Like I've never seen the sky before._

_Want to vanish inside your kiss_

_Everyday I love you more and more. _

_Listen to my heart can you hear it sing? _

_Telling me to give you everything._

_Seasons may change winter to spring_

_But I love you, until the end of time._

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"But Jon, I _want_ to be on the front lines! Why are you being so stubborn? It's not like you don't know that I can handle myself!" Sir Alanna of Olau and Pirate's Swoop shouted to her king, Jonathan the IV of Conté, in the command tent. She was indeed very red, from her flaming red hair to her anger-flushed cheeks.

"Alanna, how many times do I need to tell you that you are not needed there? The skirmish isn't _so _bad that it needs the Champion to care for its every need and whim. The men can take care of themselves, and besides," he grinned wickedly, not your normal everyday king, "George wouldn't forgive me if his first child was killed before it was born."

At first, Alanna opened her mouth to retaliate, but she quickly discovered there was no way to get back at him for that. She shut her mouth and glowered at her former knight master, clearly displeased. "He won't be pleased if I'm grumpy when I come home," she mumbled, but Jon didn't hear her.

She left the tent, leaving a heavy feeling of displeasure in her wake. Inwardly, Jon regretted making her unhappy—every time he did so he regretted it—but the facts were the facts. He shook his head in dismay and turned his attention to new reports from the skirmish. To put it simply: not good.

The battle was dragging on longer than he had anticipated and the Scanrans were putting up a bigger fight than was plausible for so small of numbers. The reports coming in were frantic now: they had mages. Jon hoped to Mithros and the Goddess that Alanna was _not_ outside listening to this. For some reason, he didn't want her in on this fight. His explanation was that enough has gone wrong and if she goes in, something else could go bad and he would have to look for another Champion. That's what he told himself anyway.

He sent out rushed orders and supplied more troops where needed when Alanna came in, smiling uncharacteristically sweetly. "Not needed here am I, Jon? Oh how I love it when you're wrong."

Now it was Jon's turn to scowl, but he was in no position to argue—the mages were beginning to force a hole in the front line. If that hole got large enough, it would split the army meaning Jon's army would have to fight on two fronts—the worst thing. "Alright _fine!_" he snapped. "But if anything happens to you or the baby, I'm blaming it all on you!"

"_Thank_ you!" Alanna cried exasperatedly while rushing out of the tent to suit up.

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Jon surveyed the wreckage with distaste. The Scanrans had been defeated and forced to surrender at the price of heavy losses on his side. His eyes passed disinterestedly over the carnage looking for something in particular. "Where are you?" he muttered, eyes scouring every detail. At last he spotted what he was looking for, but it wasn't the way he wanted to.

Smeared with dirt and drying blood was the gold and red armor of the Champion, barely distinguishable from the rest of the gore around it. If it hadn't been for a spot of red hair, deeply matted with blood and mud, Jon would have passed over the body without a second glance.

His advisors cried for him to stop, but he ran to the redhead on the ground. She barely moved, but there was breath there, only just lifting her from the ground as she inhaled. Relieved, he knelt by Alanna's side and turned her over. Her face was hardly touched, but there was blood seeping from beneath her breastplate.

He tore off his gloves and pulled the hair away from her face. She was shaking, likely from loss of blood, yet her eyes flickered open so a glimmer of purple sneaked out from heavy lids. She smiled weakly, shivering worse than ever. "I knew you'd find me." Jon shushed her and went on to heal her wounds. He gently removed the breastplate and felt for the source of the wound. Fortunately, it was nowhere near her womb leaving her unborn child—hopefully—safe.

It was no infliction of a sword, though now that he thought about it, no one could have managed such a feat facing the Lioness. No this gash nearly went clear through her and was not a clean wound that would have suggested a blade of sorts, which meant only one thing: magic.

He silently cursed the man—or woman—who wouldn't dare face his Lioness in open combat and would only harm her while she was distracted. He healed the wound as best he could and the shaking subsided a little. He picked her up and carried her bridal style back to the caravan loading up other survivors and ordered someone fetch her sword.

They reached the command tent only an hour or so later and Alanna was promptly rushed to the healing tent before Jon was even told why.

He watched as his best friend was briskly greeted by Duke Baird. One of her arms flopped off its place on her stomach and dangled lifelessly off the edge of the stretcher. Jon's eyes widened in horror.

He began to march jerkily towards the tent, but was stopped at the entrance by one of his own men. Oblivious to the insubordination, the king instantly asked, "What happened?" he asked, the fear clearly present in his voice.

"She lost too much blood, despite your efforts and went into shock while in the caravan," the man explained, eyes sympathetic. "I'm sorry sir, but as of this moment, she could be dead."

"Move aside," Jonathan—the _King _Jonathan—ordered coldly.

"I cannot, my lord. I suggest you rest and we will inform you if anything changes. Please, sire, there is nothing you can do there."

"I can be with her. I need to be with her if she dies," Jon murmured and promptly passed out.

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He awoke in his tent to a note right in his face informing him to immediately come to the healer's tent. He jumped into his boots and raced as fast as he could, bypassing an unwary soldier on his way into the ward.

"She's fine, my lord, but we have thus far been unable to remove her from unconsciousness. We fear she may be in a coma, there was a severe extent of head damage," Duke Baird whispered. "Maybe if you stayed with her a while it would help." Jon nodded dumbly, deftly walking past the duke and to his Champion. At least she was clean now and her breathing strong and regular. He pulled up a chair beside her bed and sank into it.

"Hey Alanna," he whispered, voice thickening with emotion. He wasn't used to seeing her like this, so still—too still. She had had overextensions before, but at least she moved once in a while. Now she was just dead, except for the obvious fact that she was breathing.

He didn't know what to say. He covered her hand with his own, brushing it with his thumb. His hand twitched involuntarily causing his fingertips to brush her callused ones. With unnerving clarity, he remembered the feeling of those hands clawing at his bare back at night when they were younger (a/n: anyone else's hearts pounding?) He removed his hand quickly and shoved the memory back down. He had a special connection with her, there was no denying it, and his love for Thayet only took him so far, the rest of the way was paved for—

_Stop it _he ordered himself. _What's wrong with you?_ Jon chuckled and returned his thoughts to his Champion, Lioness, and friend—not his former lover.

He took her hand again and brought it up to meet his lips. Holding her knuckles to his forehead, he exhaled heavily with his eyes closed, just resting. She couldn't die, not while Jon still had love for her. Startled, he nearly dropped the hand. He placed it down carefully and leapt up and paced. Did he just admit something to himself? _Please tell me I didn't, _he pleaded to his inner Faithful-like companion. _I have a wife, two beautiful children and Alanna has George and a young one on the way. What's wrong with me? _He repeated to himself.

Calming himself back down, he sat by her side again. It was funny how she still had this much power over him, even in unconsciousness. Thayet didn't have that much power over him. She could keep him under control, that was one thing, but she couldn't stop him in his tracks and make him think like Alanna so readily could.

Something jolted him away from his thoughts. Had Alanna sniffed? He stared at her, perplexed, until something out of the corner of his eye moved. He waited for a few moments more, but nothing else happened. "Gods Alanna!" he cried. "Why do you do this to me!" He sighed in response to his own question.

He bent over her, ear to her mouth, listening for a change. Nothing. He turned his head and suddenly he realized they were very close, her quiet scent filling his nostrils. He could feel heat rising through him. _She is beautiful,_ he thought, _just in her own way. _Out of impulse, he covered her lips with his own, reminding him vividly of a similar moment in Fort Drell during the Tusaine War.

But this was different. He suddenly felt her lips moving beneath his, and a light hand felt its way into his hair, combing through it. He pushed away from her, alarmed, and found wide and alert amethyst eyes searching his. "I'm sorry," he stuttered, realizing what he had done, "I didn't mean—" but she pulled him back down, this time, both of them (thankfully) having full control of their bodies. She pulled his head closer to hers deepening their kiss and felt him asking for entrance which she willingly, and surprisingly, gave.

Hearing the movement of tent hangings being rearranged so someone could enter forced the two apart.

Duke Baird came in to check on her, stunned to find her awake. After a while of checking and double-checking his results on her, he discharged Alanna from the tent, but recommended someone keep an eye on her.

All through the checkup, Alanna found her passion and love for Jon flare back up again, rivaling even the infamous 'Seventeenth Birthday' incident, up until their fight at Alanna's home with the Bloody Hawk tribe of Bazhir.

The rest of the week was saved for helping the wounded regain some of their lost strength for the trip home, but Alanna and her king soon found more…_pleasurable_… things to spend their time on than resting, and Jon had a bit more than just an eye on her. No one knew of course because of careful measures taken to prevent that sort of thing, but one night, Alanna lay curled against her king, using his chest as a pillow while his fingers stroked up and down her spine. "This is wrong, I know it is," she whispered, but she was certain he heard her from the hesitation in his current stroke. "We won't be able to continue it back in Corus."

"I know," Jon murmured, "but it doesn't stop me loving you."

Alanna looked up, frightened as he stared right back. "Does it matter?" he asked. "It won't change anything: I'll still be married to Thayet and you to George. It won't change a thing."

She got up hurriedly and dressed. "It matters, Jon, because if I still love you, and you still love me, then that means that our spouses who we are _supposed _to love, by law of the Goddess, don't get all our love like they are supposed to. George deserves that much from me, if not more."

"And I don't deserve it?" Jon huffed slightly, looking at the ceiling of the tent.

"There it is again, just like in the desert, that kingly ordering persona of yours. That's what drove me away from you last time, do you want it to happen again?" this time it was Jon's turn to be silent.

"Just come back to bed—we'll figure this out when we leave for home tomorrow."

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Eh, it was alright. Wasn't as good as I was hoping it to be, but I maybe the next chapter will be better. Ah well, give me _your _thoughts. Review please.

kt

Oh, and I've decided that the Conté Rose will become more of a long-term project, seeing as it happens to be long, and I'll have smaller works in between chapters. Is that alright with y'all? If it isn't, tell me so.


	2. Chapter 2: I Will Love You

Chapter Two: I Will Love You

_Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place,_

_Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace._

_Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste,_

_It all revolves around you._

_And there's no mountain too high,_

_No river too wide,_

_Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side._

_Storm clouds may gather and stars may collide,_

_But I love you, _

_Until the end of time._

Her legs entwined with that of her lover, she kissed his neck again and again when his handsome face and sapphire gaze pierced her own. "Know I love you," he said. "Know I can't live without you."

His face changed, black hair was replaced by brown, brilliant blue morphed to hazel and the features that were once the King's were now the Baron's, but the frightening love and passion were equal in both. He was whispering, "Know I love you. Know I can't live without you." George kissed her mouth long and hard, then surfaced to face her. He stared into her eyes again, making the love and lust and passion be quickly changed into hurt and sorrow. "Why do you do this to me, lass?" he very nearly sobbed. "Don't think I haven't noticed."

Alanna awoke, sweating. This was a dream she had had before many times. She looked to her left hoping to find George there, but instead found Jon. She covered her mouth with a shaking hand and rolled off the bed. She was in the King's personal quarters, a now familiar setting for her.

She rushed around, picking up the clothes on the floor that were hers and made her way to the privy. She washed the sweat off her body and out of her hair and dressed before Jon even uttered a grunt in his sleep.

It was before dawn and the halls were quiet and empty. She returned to her personal room and flopped down on her own bed, arms out so she looked like some kind of ridiculous bird.

She didn't know why, but this dream disturbed her worse than the other ones had. She felt her stomach, finally flat after nine months of pregnancy. Aly and Alan were at home being watched diligently by Maude and George, and even Thom—her first born. They were at home with no knowledge of her whereabouts at the palace, trusting her completely, almost disgustingly. Alanna bit back tears of anger at herself for betraying that trust. They, by law, deserved her love, not Jon. Jon was supposed to have the love of a sister or best friend, or even a subject, not an actual lover.

She hated herself. Having gone through two pregnancies due to George, all the while in between being vexed by Jon. It wasn't right, yet why did it feel so? She shook her soggy head faintly, sure about what she had to do, yet she would do so in the morning, for now, she had to sleep, hopefully without dreams of dreadfully wrong affairs and suspecting husbands.

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Alanna paced in the hall outside her king's door, thinking carefully about what she was going to say. Finally growing aggravated with herself, she knocked forcefully on the door. "Come in!" she heard, and obeyed.

"Hey," Jon said, looking up and seeing her. "You left last night before I woke up. Are you alright?" Alanna closed the door and magicked the room like they had done so many times before, but as he got up from his work and wrapped his arms around her waist, she pushed his chest back from her, shaking her head. "What's wrong?" he inquired, concerned. She had never refused this before, not in the last three years, well, except when she had been visibly pregnant with Thom and the twins.

She removed his hands from her body and took a step back, deciding it had to be done and was the right thing to do. "We can't do this anymore Jon," she whispered. "I told you back when I was pregnant with Thom that we couldn't continue this when we were home in Corus, yet we did. Why?"

Jon thought about it. "Because we love each other, and nothing can stop that." Alanna's first inner response was thinking about the way he sounded so similar to when he said that they were made for each other. He had said it in the same tone at the very least.

"I love you, Jon, I truly do, but I can't do this anymore: the lying, the sneaking. My children need me—my _husband_ needs me. I will always be here for you, as Champion I have to be, but if I continue this, I see you full time, and my family barely ever! I have to split my feelings, Jon; them as the family I love, and you as my best friend and lord. That's the way it has to be. How much love do you have for Thayet since Scanran Skirmish?"

"Probably the same amount of love that you currently have for George. We _were _made to be together, Alanna, and I still believe you would have made a better queen than you're giving yourself credit for." Alanna winced, but brushed it away, knowing that it wouldn't make a bit of difference.

"That may be how the Goddess wanted it, but that's not what _I _want. I want to have a trusting marriage with a close-knit family and I can't do that while I'm out… _cavorting_ with you." Her temper was rising from self-loathing. He reached for her and she leapt out of his grip.

"Alanna," he whispered, eyes filled with hurt. But that didn't make Alanna back down.

"No," she snapped. "I need this to be over and done with, I want to go on, happy in life as a Baroness—not a Queen, or some sort of dirty concubine, but with my three children and my husband, all of whom I love. And you're wrong," she added when he opened his mouth, "to say that I don't love George, because I do. He was there when you weren't." That hurt him.

"I thought we got past that."

"We did, but that was after you found you loved Thayet, and I know you still love her, at least a little. That's why we didn't get married the last time you asked me, remember? We were in love with other people." Her anger had gone down a bit by this point, smoothing her tone to quiet sadness, matching Jon's own.

"Know that I love you, Jon," she said, echoing her dream. "And know that I cannot live without you." She kissed him with passion and ferocity, but nonetheless, it made him feel her ultimatum. "Know that I always will," she added, burying her face in his chest. "But also know that we must stop this, for the good of everyone, and I will still be with you forever."

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You AJ people are probably going to come after me about this, but believe me, it's not over just yet. Those of you that have read Out of Reach will think this is along those same lines, but… just believe me, it's not quite the same idea. Just review if you would.

kt

To be honest, I liked that chapter, don't know why, seeing as I am a huge AJ fan (no AG for me), but I enjoyed writing the last part: it just seemed to match, even if Alanna was a bit OOC. Toodles til next time!


	3. Chapter 3: Until My Dying Day

Chapter Three: Until My Dying Day

_Come what may, come what may,_

_I will love you until my dying day._

_Oh come what may, come what may,_

_I will love you, _

_Oh I will love you._

_Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place._

_Come what my, come what may._

_I will love you until my dying day!_

"Gods George! Just give me a little room to work with would you?" Thom heard his mother shout through his parents' closed door. He winced and his lower lip began to tremble. He knew his mother had a temper, but never had he heard it used on his father.

The poor boy heard loud, angry footsteps approaching the door and tried to get his fear under control, knowing full well who would be leaving the room with such a bad aura pulsing around her. He told his feet to move before he met his mother's wrath as well, but they were rooted to thoroughly that nothing up to his ankles so much as twitched, though his knees were clearly working. They trembled with unshod tears.

The door was wrenched open only to unveil a very cloudy Alanna. Unable to do anything else, Thom stared up at his mother, eyes sparkling like twin orbs of amethyst, just like hers. But his were exceptionally bright. Hers were dark with an urge to take out her mounting temper on something. Poor unfortunate Thom just happened to be right there.

"What are you standing there for?" she demanded, still caught up in her rage. When he did not answer, she pushed him unkindly out of the way and stormed down the stairs towards the entrance hall.

Unable to move from his spot on the side of the hall, Thom avoided being shoved by his father, who had a look of extreme confusion plastered on his face, a second later, as he raced after his strangely moody wife. His son heard a barely audible, "Gods, is it that time of the month already?" and young Thom had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

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"Is this seat taken?" Alanna heard through her slightly fogged brain. She had ridden all the way from Pirate's Swoop to Corus that night and immediately went to the Dancing Dove for a blissful drink.

"Yes, and if you don't mind, I'd like to keep it that way," she spat out with unnecessary vigor, her words slurred only slightly, but only because she retained her self-discipline. Unfortunately for her, her little guest had had a lot of practice noticing the symptoms of being drunk having spent a lot of time in that very pub. And she was quite drunk.

"Now, is that the way to greet your master, squire?" asked the stranger. Alanna finally looked up from her tankard and squinted through slightly blurred eyes—to find the last person (besides maybe her husband) that she wanted to see. She groaned audibly.

"Do I really _look _hospitable right now, Jon?"

"Of course not—as usual—but that never barred me in the past now has it?" he tossed back with ease.

Unable to stop herself in her 'slightly buzzed' state (and not being in the mood for company didn't help either), Alanna tossed the rest of her ale on him and walked rather smartly—despite the slight swagger to her stance—out the doors, tankard still in hand.

"Well, that's never happened before…" a sopping Jon remarked to himself, staring after her, wide sapphire eyes peering through wet clumps of long, black hair, before he got up, plopped a few coins on the table and took a slightly more straight route through the swinging doors of the pub.

"Wait up!" Jon yelled after her.

"What is it with men?" Alanna wondered out loud to the heavens. "It's as though they don't think I can take care of myself."

"Well, I must admit you're not doing a very good job at the moment," Jon said, suddenly right beside her.

"How'd you get up here so fast?" the redhead slurred out, slightly taken aback.

"Well, you're not exactly walking in a straight line."

At that, she let out a dull 'Oh,' and looked back at the trail of muddy footprints etched in the ground for a second before looking back up at her former knight-master as though seeing him for the first time. "Did you get your hair cut?" she inquired somewhat dimly.

"Yeah. Why?"

"No reason."

"Look, let me take you up to stay with Thayet and I at the castle. I'm sure she'd love to see you."

Alanna's suddenly unguarded emotions were quite apparent as her eyes clouded over and she muttered, "Ah. Thayet."

"Something wrong?" Jon probed with concern. He couldn't grasp what about his lovely wife would make her best friend say her name in that tone.

"Why'd we do it Jon?"

"Do what?"

"Stop."

Surprised, Jon did as he was told.

"Well?" Alanna prompted, using her arms for emphasis.

"You told me to stop."

"No, dolt, I asked _why_ didwe stop."

"Stop what?" 

"Being us."

"As in…?" Jon inquired tentatively, fearing that he already knew where this was going.

"Yeah."

_Uh oh, _Jon thought instantly. _She's just drunk, that's all. She's not thinking clearly. But, why would she leave her home to get drunk in the first place, unless… _"Because we were already bound. It was your idea remember."

"Someone wise told me that it takes two to make that kind of choice, Jon," she said calmly, for once. Jon didn't like where this was going. She was becoming lucid once more, yet not turning the conversation around. _Well, that was fast,_ he thought. "Now that I think about it, I think that was my husband," she added, contemplating it for a moment. Jon seized the opportunity to change the subject.

"Yeah, now that you seem to be thinking a little more clearly, can you tell me why you rode all the way here from Pirate's Swoop just for a drink? …Well, make that a few drinks."

She sighed heavily. "Do I have to talk about it?"

"Yes. If only because a friend wants to help."

"Heh. Friend."

"I can make it an order, if you like."

"No thank you, but do I have to talk now?"

"No. I want you to sleep and head off the inevitably dreadful headache you're going to get in the morning."

"I suppose you're right." Even stubborn Alanna couldn't argue the logic in this, and being as tired as she was, it didn't seem like such a bad idea either.

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"She just showed up out of the blue?" Thayet asked, confused.

Jon nodded his answer, still puzzling over the matrix that was Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau.

"What did she say, if anything?" 

"I got an idea that she'd had some kind of argument with George, and then she just stormed out."

That just crinkled Thayet's beautiful face further. "She never fights with George. I wonder what happened. I can talk to her if you like, it seems like a 'girl-to-girl'-type discussion."

"No, that's alright. She ah…." Jon stopped. He didn't like where he thought the conversation would turn if he mentioned that Alanna didn't seem too enthused to be coming to the castle in the first place. Because of Thayet. Jon had a nasty feeling something rather catastrophic would happen to tomorrow and, not knowing what it would be, he was glad Thayet would be out with the Riders all day. He didn't want her in direct line of Alanna's undeniable warpath. "Nevermind. She's just a little… volatile at the moment." Thayet cocked an eyebrow, but made no comment either way.

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"Isn't it amazing how one's life can go from good to bad to worse in the space of just a few days?" Alanna asked herself as she lay in her Champion's chambers once again. she was quiet for a while, then sighed. "I want my cat," she said to no one, then burst into tears. Angry tears. She cursed herself, Jon, George, and Thayet. Wasn't this what George was trying to prevent? He didn't want her abandoning her children for him to take care of alone. And she buried her face into her pillow remembering the look on young Thom's face as she shoved him out of the way. He looked so vulnerable, sad, and scared. No one should have to mishandled by their own mother.

Little did she know, she had thought about this all night and fallen asleep without noticing. She dreamt about her children pining for her at home. Oddly enough, George wasn't anywhere to be seen. She must have cried in her sleep because she awoke to someone shaking her, and a salty-tasting wet spot on her pillow.

"My Lioness doesn't cry," Jon reminded her in a kind whisper, rubbing his and along her back comfortingly. This only caused her to further bawl.

"No, Jon. I overreacted and I probably pushed my son away from me for life in the process." She turned over so she could look at him. Her eyes were as red as her hair and puffier than her pillows.

"How so?"

She breathed a few times before beginning. "George… George wanted me to stay home from the next few battles so I could spend more time with my children. Get to know them, you know. He wanted me to take a rest from my 'overactive life' he called it. He said that every good warrior needs a break once in a while. I know he was just being a good husband and just trying to help, but I flew off the handle. I said that if I took a break, I would get back into the game rusty, just like I did after I gave birth to my children. I didn't want that to happen again.

"I said that fighting is what I like to do, and he said, 'Obviously,' under his breath. I guess I do like to fight. But it's not just that—it's my life. I've spent my whole life perfecting myself to protect this kingdom. To protect you." She said this last bit staring right into his eyes. Her resolve was growing, as was her confidence. Jon felt his breath hitch slightly. He hoped she hadn't noticed, but by the way her lip curled up into a half-smile, he doubted that she hadn't. "You know the only thing that's kept me sane is knowing that you'll always be there to help me if I can't do something, even if I don't admit it," she added with a wry grin.

She sat up, brought her face very close to his, and shrugged nonchalantly, head pounding with a hangover, but she didn't care. He closed the last ten percent of distance between them and it lasted long enough to hear a knock at the door. Alanna collapsed against him in relief. Neither, even in their adultery, regretted anything anymore. They realized that there wasn't anything they could do about it anymore. Jon waited until Alanna could hold herself up, then went to the door, and found Thayet. They both invited her wholeheartedly in, not feeling guilty in the slightest.

"Are you alright, Alanna?" she asked, missing the glance she and her husband shared right in front of her.

"I'm fine." And she told her friend the whole story over again. As she told it, it seemed to make the pain more bearable.

"Well, I think you need to rest," the Queen said finally. "Jon, we should leave, let the poor woman sleep it off. Here's the hangover remedy, by the way. I put some sleeping herb into it too, so drink it." She smiled, beckoned to her husband, and walked out.

The two lovers stared at each other for a while. "Will I ever stop loving you?" Alanna asked, aware at how strange those words were, coming out of her mouth.

As cocky as he was in his twenties, Jon responded, "I doubt it."

Alanna could only smile, feeling better than she had for a while. She felt that now, when she went home, she could live her life properly, even though she would have to live with lying to her family. She was in love with two men, and she knew it…well, four, if you count her two sons, but nevermind. She would never conduct such an affair as she had when she was pregnant (as disturbing as thought was), but she could live with it. "Until my dying day, Jon." She whispered as he walked out the door.

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Okay, that's it. The last chapter wasn't very good, I know, but I really had to finish it. The fact that it wasn't done was getting on my nerves.

KT


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